Silk
by Hannan
Summary: LingFan. Ling muses on his power as the Emperor.


If you thought about it, groveling is pretty much your whole day.

Servants groveling about this and that. Commoners out in the town, groveling and begging. Yes, the entirety of your life is spent listening to the wonderful sound of groveling.

You lie in bed, the one who'd spent the night opening the curtains and sashaying her way back to lean against the poster. She smiles shyly, though she's not so much in bed, and asks how your sleep was, Emperor.

Ah, you could listen to that all day. "It was restful, little princess," you say, closing your eyes and smiling in the sunlight. The light of the morning felt like a bath of renewal, like today could be the first day of something new, something big.

"You may call me by my name, Lord." She lay down next to you, brushing a hair from your face. "That is proper for your wife, after all."

You catch her hand gently and push it away. "I have many wives, little princess. And none of them matter. Thank you for spending this time with me, I hope your new life here can be a happy one." You smile, the gesture a dismissal. She is stiffer now, you note, but it doesn't really matter. How she feels about you is unimportant. Your union to her is a matter of good business, not shared passion.

The silk sheets are all you ever dreamt of, you think burying your face in them. Every little bit of this bed screams _royalty_, screams _emperor_, and you love it. Nothing could be better than that. Only one thing could make it better.

You lie for a few more moments, reveling in the luxury just because you have every right to, and when you open your eyes, the morning only becomes better.

"Lan Fan!" You exclaim, face lighting up. "I didn't know you were here already!"

She shifted from her position in the exit to the balcony, bowing her head. "Good morning, my Lord."

You tilt your head, taking her in carefully. What a beautiful one she was. Though you'd often thought about her, you could never put her in quite the same place as the category your wives fell into. Lan Fan was different. If only she would take off that awful mask more often; her smooth skin and beautiful, surprised eyes weren't to be covered. "Come here, Lan Fan," you say, perfectly aware that she flinched whenever her own name escaped your lips.

She moved differently, too. Like poison, like silk. Ahh, silk. What you would give to see her dressed in silk like the princess last night. Slippery, rich, silk that pooled like water and slid through your fingers when you touch her.

Touch her. You haven't done that in a long time. Not since you took the throne. A long time ago, all fumbling and nerves, you'd touched and made love. Not since. Her movements now proved she still remembered, and you can't believe how long it's been.

"Milord?" She asked quietly when your hand goes up, up, to touch the mask. She wants it on. You want it off.

"Hush," you say, smiling as you pull it off with a _snap_ of the tie around it and slide it off her face, glistening with sweat. You hand it back to her, obvious that she wants to handle it more than anything in the world right now. She sets it aside on the end table, bowing her head more deeply now, as if you can't see the lovely features from that angle.

You've sat up, leaning in closer. With one finger, you guide her chin up and stare for a few moments. Her skin was flawless, lips full and shaped elegantly. Her eyebrows arched over perfect eyes, and the expression she made; you could hardly deprive yourself for a moment longer. She was embarrassed, you knew, so you simply slid your finger over her jaw and cooed, "You're perfect, Lan Fan."

She pursed her lips, blushing suddenly, and you smiled. No woman could be anything near his bodyguard's beauty. They tried, with makeup and clothes they tried, but all you want is to see this woman, dressed in silk and all yours.

Because you are the Emperor.

_Anything I want is mine,_ you think later, as the silk floats around her hips and in your hands. _Because I am the Emperor._

* * *

_A/N: A one-shot I wrote for my friend after exchanging more sex head canons. Ling was proclaimed to have something of a silk fetish and loved Lan Fan even though he had like 50 wives, so I wrote this up. Thanks for letting me know what you think! 8D_


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